Shock
by lalagirl16
Summary: (Set after Fallout) The funny thing about life-changing events is how they tend to blend into normalcy. There was no way Barry Allen could have known that simply coming in to work one day would lead to him being imprisoned, deemed too dangerous to be free in society. One thing's for certain: Whether he escapes with his life or not, nothing will ever be the same for him again.
1. Moments

_The deeper the blue becomes, the more strongly it calls man towards the infinite, awakening in him a desire for the pure and, finally, for the supernatural...The brighter it becomes, the more it loses its sound, until it turns into silent stillness and becomes white._

 _-Wassily Kandinsky_

The funny thing about life-changing events is the way they tend to blend into the normalcy of one's routine. Every event is built upon the one before it, and there is no way to foresee these events until they happen in a natural order. Even if you were to jump ahead through time in order to glimpse at the future, that future would never be the same because you have changed the past by learning about it. And then, there would be no way to find out what the new future would be, and all it would create was an endless cycle that would drive anyone to insanity. I've found myself thinking about time a lot since I found out that I will eventually travel back in time to when I was 11, fight the Reverse Flash, and end up loosing. Time travel has always been an exciting yet dangerously sinister problem that clouds the back of any great scientist's mind. If you had told me 2 years ago that I would time travel one day, I would have been amazed. Excited. My head would overflow with all the opportunity the prospect presented. But now that I've done it, even though I only relived one day, I know just how much each second of your life can count. I understand how easily time's natural flow and order can be ruptured, and how the most trivial changes amount to different outcomes and drastic changes.

It was just a regular morning when it happened. A Thursday, in a week where crime rates were up, but not more than usual. A week where I was late for almost everything, despite my super speed. A week where Barry Allen continued to fawn over his best friend, her love forever unrequited. Honestly, I would have been more concerned if crime was down, I was on time, and Iris had treated me as anything more than a friend. Concerned isn't a bad thing. Concerned keeps you expecting the unexpected. It keeps you prepared for those moments you simply can't prepare for. And this moment began as soon as Captain Singh came to my lab and told me I was to come immediately for a mandatory station meeting. He then left without another word. I could tell he was nervous about something; his brow was furrowed just a bit too much and his eyes were emotionless, instead of the usual annoyance he always seemed to find when he was around me, whether it be for my periodic tardiness or my clumsy nature. I had never seen Singh look so unnerved before. When I left my lab to follow him down to the meeting, I was unsure of what awaited me there. If I had known, I would have run when I still had the chance.

* * *

When I arrived, everyone who worked at the station, from the detectives to the interns who fetched coffee, were gathered, and unearthly silent. As I scanned the sea of familiar faces, I saw that Iris was there too, standing by Joe and clutching his hand tightly. Though no one said anything, I could feel the solemn confusion that seemed to emanate from every face that I glanced at. Not feeling comfortable standing alone, I quietly walked over and made my way to the back of the crowd, to stand by Joe and Iris. No one dared to converse, much less chat about the topic of the meeting. I wondered if the silence came from fear of the unknown or worse, fear of something so horrible, it would be better left unknown. Joe gave me a glance and a half-hearted smile. His eyes told me, "Everything's going to be ok." I nodded in response. But I couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure me, or himself.

The silence was finally broken when the door to Singh's office opened, and he stepped out, looking even more nervous than he had when I had seen him five minutes ago. Another man followed him out. A man who I recognized all too well. He was a tall man; and one whose presence seemed to take up the entire room. Though he was several feet away, his stature was intimidating to the point where you feel like he was looming right over you. His glare seemed to pierce through the crowd, as he looked each individual in the eyes, as if he were trying to cut through every fiber of them, and uncover secrets they didn't even know they had. His face remained stoic, despite the tension that enveloped the room in unwavering silence. The man took long, slow strides out of the office, passing Singh, leaving him to simply follow behind in quiet obedience. The crowd parted when he came to it, and even after he had emerged on the other side, no one moved to close the gap. The man finally stopped and turned around to address us, the same seemingly omniscient gaze towering above the room. Finally, the man broke the silence.

"Men and Women of the Central City Police Department," he bellowed. "My name is General Wade Eiling. I am here to rid your force of the dangerous beings known as metahumans." I felt my blood run cold. I didn't dare glance at Joe; I felt that any movement would be instantly regarded as suspicious. It didn't matter whether my internal feeling of panic surfaced to my expression, because I could already feel the General's cold eyes cutting through me. Was it just in my head, or did he seem to be looking at me more pointedly than the rest? Eiling began to pace back and forth, maintaining eye contact for just long enough with every person he passed. "We've all seen these supernatural occurrences, whether we want to believe them or not. Criminals who defy the present laws of our reality. Criminals with...well...Superpowers. These people, no matter what powers they may possess have one thing in common: they are all dangerous. These metas must be captured, so that they can no longer wreak havoc on your city, and in our world. Whether they are villains…" Eiling directed his gaze towards me. "...or so-called 'heros.'"

"The General is only here to test new metahuman-identifying technology here in the station." Singh explained. "This is for the protection of our officers here, and those who we are protecting. If we were to have a meta with dangerous intentions among us…"

"It doesn't matter what their intentions are, Singh. All of these metas must be apprehended. They are not fit to live in normal society under the guise of regular humans. That would be reckless." Eiling held up a small device. "This was developed by my team of scientists to identify humans with irregular molecular structures. Humans who were affected by the particle accelerator explosion. It will beep when it identifies a metahuman. Once I have tested all of you, you are free to return to your work. But no one leaves this room until I've tested everyone. Am I clear?" No one spoke. Everyone quietly began to form a line. The silence felt unfair. There was so much I wanted to say, needed to say. I needed to ask Joe what to do. I had to call Caitlin, Cisco, and Dr. Wells. But most of all, I had to get out. I knew what General Eiling wanted to do with F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M. and Plastique, so I could only imagine what horrors would await me if I couldn't escape.

Eiling had a checklist. He has not going to let one meta slip through his fingers. The line shrank and shrank, each tested person coming out normal. Those who were finished would wander to the the back of the room and reform the crowd, this time breaking the icy silence with whispers and gossip. Somehow the absence of silence was more unsettling. Though the chatter was quiet, it soon became all I could hear. Iris and Eddie were talking about the Flash. _Would he really be arrested? Who was he really? Was he there in the station? If there were any hidden metas in the station, wouldn't he have known about it?_ All the chatter became increasingly louder, until it became screaming. The more I tried to block it out, the more they sounded like accusations. _You're a metahuman. Why are you hiding, Flash? You don't belong here! Take him away! We know who you really are!_ I felt my already unnaturally fast heartbeat quicken, and I knew I was on the edge of hyperventilating. Joe was behind me, and he simply laid his hand on my shoulder. I didn't even have to turn around to know what he was telling me with his eyes. _No, Joe. Nothing's going to be alright. I can't run from this._

"Barry Allen." I looked up, all my thoughts coming to a screeching halt. I tried to search the line ahead for the speaker, but I couldn't, for there was no longer a line in front of me. General Eiling had read my name from the list. It was my turn.


	2. Capture

_The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success_

 _-Bruce Feirstein_

"Barry Allen." Eiling repeated my name once more, an impatient look in his eyes. I slowly walked up to him, heart thumping. I had to escape. I had to make a plan, any plan! Anything was better than this; I didn't want to be revealed simply by quiet submission, but what else could I do? I just couldn't get myself to think. I was nearly face to face with General Eiling, and he was holding the damned device in his hands. How long did I have? Minutes? Seconds? How long could I possibly stall before-

 _BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

All chatter immediately ceased. I could feel each set of eyes burning through the back of my head. Silence reigned once more. I cursed myself for my earlier disdain of it, because it was far better to not hear everything that they were thinking. However, with Eiling, I wasn't so lucky.

"And just when I thought my visit was for nothing…" A knowing smile crept across his face. I tried so hard to say something. I could have made something up. I could have told him how I was struck by lightning, which put me in a coma, so my molecules were just _slightly_ unstable. No metahuman here. But the words just wouldn't come, and part of me knew it would do me no good anyway, so I kept my mouth shut. "Mr. Allen, you'll have to come with me, immediately. " This time Iris couldn't stay quiet.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" she yelled, pushing her way through the crowd in the back, coming up to the front. I could see there were tears in her eyes, and I quickly faced front once more, not being able to bear the sight. "That's my best friend you have there! He's not evil, and he definitely doesn't have any...powers!" I could see Joe come up behind her and try to calm her down, probably assuring her that they'd get me out, but Iris wouldn't stop. "You're just relying on that device! It could have malfunctioned! He did just recently recover from a coma and...and...you don't have any real proof!" The General began to pace a bit, the same sly smile still prominent.

"You're right. I _don't_ have any real proof, do I?" He stopped pacing and looked me straight in the eye. "Lucky for you all, I already knew about this one before I came here. He's a...speedy little fellow. The Flash...I think he calls himself." I knew my silence was getting suspicious, so I spoke up.

"I believe you've confused me for someone else, sir."

"Have I now?" he retorted. "We'll see about that, Mr. Allen." Without a second of hesitation, General Eiling pulled out a handgun from his pocket and fired four shots at Iris. I didn't even have to think twice about the consequences of what I was about to do. I ran as fast as I could, yanking the bullets away from their path before they could fulfill their purpose in killing the woman I loved like a friend, a sister, and everything more. The world seemed to speed back up again as I stopped moving, grasping the tiny pieces of metal in my extended fist. I open my hand and let them drop to the floor, the tiny _clink clink_ s that they made being the only audible sound in the entire station. I sent the General an icy glare of my own.

"You can do what you want with me, Eiling. But if you hurt her.." I took an step towards him and looked him straight in the eye with an intensity I didn't know I had in me. "...I can't be held responsible for what I do."

"Threats will get you nowhere."

"I'm not scared of you."

"That's because I haven't given you enough reasons to be," he responded coldly. Captain Singh stepped forward to object.

"General, I'm afraid I won't allow you to just take my forensic scientist on a whim. We need him here; we're in the middle of tracking a serial killer as we speak and we need his input!"

"I'm merely asking you to weigh national, even global security against the security of one town. We can't just allow someone as dangerous as Mr. Allen to continue to live in society. I'm afraid that unless we can find a way to reverse the particle accelerator, which is an impossible feat by all means, Barry Allen will not be returning anytime soon. I suggest you look for a new forensic expert, Captain." Then he turned to address me. "Come on, freak."

"I know my rights, Eiling," I stated in a firm voice, never breaking the everlasting glare we shared.

"As far as the government is concerned, metahumans like yourself have no rights. It's not indicated as such in the Constitution."

"I'm still a citizen of the United States."

"Until proven wrong, the military will see all metahumans as things, nothing more. We don't know for sure if the changes in molecular structure have led to any deviance in brain functions, so whether or not they even qualify as humans is up for debate. That is why we are finding metahumans in the first place: for research."

"Stop trying to make this sound like a noble thing!" I hissed back at him. "Dr. Stein told me about what you did to him! What your plans were for F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M.! You'd have to be an idiot to think that you can just take me willingly." The General's stone-faced expression remained constant as he snapped his fingers. Through the darkened doorway to the building, soldiers in formation entered quickly, all pointing guns, safety off and ready to fire. I saw as each soldier directed their aim towards a different person in the room. Not one of them made a move to push the trigger. Eiling held up his hand. Everyone in the station remained frozen.

"Of course I knew there was no way to capture you willingly, Flash. So, I guess I'll just have to make you come." He took out a pair of strange handcuffs. "These will make you unable to access your super speed, Mr. Allen. Put them on and follow me out the door, and no harm will come to those in this building."

"You've already seen me catch bullets."

"These are the best gunmen in all of my troops. It would really be a shame if you were to miss a single bullet...now wouldn't it?" I knew I couldn't risk it. I had never had to catch so many bullets, so fast. I had no idea if I could go fast enough to save everyone; Eiling had formulated the perfect trap for me. Going with him and facing whatever hell was in store wherever they planned to take me was the best bad choice I could make. I held out my hands and allowed General Eiling to cuff me. He double-checked them a few times, to make sure he wouldn't let his prize escape, I assumed, before ordering his men to drop their guns and escort us out. I didn't dare turn back to look at the faces of everyone at the station. Somehow I just knew seeing the hate, disappointment, and fear would be a final blow to my sanity.

As they escorted me (with much more physical contact than was required,) to the armored car that would be my moving prison for a while, I did look up at the sky, glad that my short glimpse of daylight was when it was at its peak of high noon. The sun felt warm and rejuvenating, and I had a feeling that it wouldn't be a luxury wherever the car was headed. I tried to think of Iris and Joe as I was being shoved into the back, but it was too painful, so I did my best to think of nothing.

* * *

There were no windows in the armored car, so I had no idea where we were going or how long we had been driving. With nothing else to do, I decided to start weighing my options about possible escape plans. It was too early to come up with anything concrete, since I hadn't even seen the facility, but I decided it would be a good use of my time to go over my options. The first goal I had was to stay sane. It sounded simple enough, but my imagination wandered, paired with vague accounts of horrible experiments Eiling had subjected many of his subjects turned military weapons to. It would only make sense that psychological torment would come paired with it. The two were a deadly combo; working with the police and having a cop foster-dad had taught me that much. Besides, I wanted to be able to continue my life as it was if I ever got out. _When_ _you get out, Barry,_ I mentally scolded myself. It was far too early to start losing hope.

Even if they could cancel out my speed, like they somehow achieved with the handcuffs that currently were restraining me, I could probably still formulate an escape plan. And even if I couldn't, I definitely knew that Cisco, Cailin, and Dr. Wells could. _They were probably looking for me this very moment,_ I reassured myself. They'll get me out. They'll break me out, or take the legal approach and explain how this was all a big misunderstanding. They'll explain that I'm not a monster, like the other metahumans.

 _Aren't you?_ I stopped at that. I had never included myself in the same category as the meta-human criminals I captured with my friends at STAR Labs. _Come to think of it,_ I thought. _I've never really thought about myself as a metahuman before today._ I had used the term, but I had never really thought of what it also meant. It meant someone different, someone alien. I thought back to what the General said. _It means a freak._ The last thing I remember thinking before I dozed off was _Maybe I was meant to be locked up._

 **Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you all for the positive feedback you left on my first chapter! I tend to be pretty review-hungry, so I was incredibly thankful for all the support. :)**

 **Please continue to review so I can improve my chapter and get you guys some quality content! If you have suggestions as well, I'd love to hear them! (I'll credit you if I end up using them later on.)**

 **In the next few chapters, there will be some switching perspectives, so you can see how everyone is reacting to these events, and what they're gonna do about it! Next chapter will be Iris, because I am WestAllen trash and for no other reason. For those of you who don't like the ship, do not worry, it will not be a main** **focus unless you guys want it to be.**

 **Thanks for reading and remember to follow, favorite, and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

 **I'll try to update ASAP ;)**


	3. Grief

_Lies and secrets...they are like a cancer in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind._

 _-Cassandra Clare_

Barry and I had shared everything for as I long as I could remember. From chocolate to homework help, to secrets. Especially secrets. Even before he came to live with us after the tragic murder of his mother, we were like brother and sister. Two peas in a pod, as they would say. He seemed to be that one constant in my life.

I remember some nights we would have "sleepovers." The first one was on that first night Barry stayed with us, and they kept going until our last night together in the house before college. They didn't have a specific schedule to them, and were only just frequent enough to be habitual, but they were some of the fondest memories that we shared. The two of us would usually camp out in Barry's room (it was always cleaner) and attach blankets to doorknobs to create a tent-like canopy. It would be our own little safe haven from all the drama of the outside world. I would tell Barry about my crush-of-the-week and he would ramble about the stress of his various AP classes. It didn't matter how deep and dark the secret, or how guarded the feelings. We shared all of it, and what happened in the tent, stayed in the tent.

Joe was not oblivious to these meetings. He often would hear the chatter and come up to Barry's room to tell us that we should really be going to bed. But I think Joe knew that even if he forced us to go back to our rooms we would sneak back out again or try again the next night, so eventually he stopped intervening. He would just pop in to check on us, remind us to get at least _some_ sleep and then leave us be. The "sleepovers" helped me get through some really hard times, and they helped Barry too, so I was grateful that my dad understood their importance as well.

Despite the horrific circumstances, the memories softened my tears momentarily. Those happy thoughts were like the eye of the storm as I was sitting alone in Eddie's house, trying to process what I'd just seen. The happiness of the memories quickly faded, and turned into sorrow and rage. Barry and I shared _everything_. _Everything._ How could he have possibly lied to me? I probably should have know that our purely honest relationship wasn't holding strong after his confession at Christmas. At least he had an excuse for that secret. (Sort of.) Why would he want to hide _this_ secret from me? Did he think I would hate him? Report him? Expose him to the press? No, Barry knew me better than that. A more likely excuse was that Joe had made him keep the secret, which was probably true. It couldn't possibly be the only reason though. I tried to picture my tall, nerdy friend, sitting next to me, giving me the answers I so desperately wanted. Knowing Barry, he would probably be stammering out some excuse about protecting me. That was BS, and we both would know it.

I wanted to be mad at him for keeping it from me. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, and let him know how much it hurt to not be trusted. I wanted to use his full name, just to let _Bartholomew Henry Allen_ know that I meant business. Instead, my rage was replaced with grief, knowing that I might not ever see my best friend again. My constant stream of tears continued as I thought about how they had taken him, with barely any explanation. I didn't know the General that had taken him, but his mere presence was something to be feared. When I had first walked into the station that morning to visit Eddie, I caught a glimpse of him talking to Singh with a couple soldiers escorting them both into Singh's office. The look of the General's face was...unnerving. Like a fox that had set a trap for a mouse long ago, and was merely playing with it, and drawing out its inevitable demise. And now he's taken the town's superhero. Now, he's taken my best friend.

"Iris?" I looked up, startled, to see Eddie standing close to me, a troubled expression on his face. _How long have I been sitting here, crying on his couch?_ I quickly made an attempt to wipe all the tears from my eyes, but they wouldn't stop coming. Noticing my failed effort to calm myself down, Eddie joined me on the couch and grasped my hand, letting me lean into him. My staggered breathing eventually evened out, and my tears eventually dried, but I didn't feel any better, no matter how many tissues I used or deep breaths I took. I knew I wouldn't feel better no matter how long I stayed with Eddie. I just wanted to see Barry.

"Thanks, Eddie," I sniffed out, trying to force a smile, but failing. Eddie held me closer, quietly sympathizing with my pain. "Do you think he's alive?" I asked eventually, in a hushed tone. I almost didn't want to hear the answer.

"I don't know, babe. We've all been working at the station since you left, trying to track Eiling or find out where they're taking Barry and any other...metahumans. But we're not going to give up until we find something. This city needs its hero." _I need my Barry Allen._

"Eddie...I...I think I need to spend some time at my dad's house." Eddie only looked a little hurt, but then nodded.

"I understand. I can only imagine how hard this is for you. Do you want me to give you a ride?" Wiping away some half-formed tears, I nodded, and followed him out the door to his car. We drove in relative silence. Eddie fiddled with the radio a bit before finally turning it off, finding nothing good on the air. I wanted to talk to Eddie to distract myself from my internal suffering, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

* * *

When we arrived at my childhood home, I got out of the car, kissed Eddie goodbye,

and entered the house to find it empty. Joe was likely still at the station, looking for Barry. Even though I knew that searching would bring Barry home sooner, I still wanted to see him as soon as possible. I considered driving down to the station to talk to him, but I didn't think I would be able to drive safely feeling like this. _I should have asked Eddie to drive me to the station._ I dialed my dad's number, my finger lingering over the call button. Did I really need to talk to someone so badly that I'd slow down the investigation for it? Sighing, I put the phone back into my pocket. It looked like I'd just have to wait for him to get home.

I walked into the kitchen and pulled out my pint of Ben & Jerry's emergency ice cream

(Chocolate Fudge Brownie), and walked over to lie on the coach, much like what I had done at Eddie's previously. I pulled up Netflix, only to find the "Recently Watched" was filled with Barry's sci-fi movies and shows. I felt myself tear up again. Was the whole universe trying to make me remember what happened to my best-friend? _Well, screw you universe._

I stood up, confident in a new decision. I wasn't going to just sit here, moping around. If Barry was in trouble, I sure as hell was not going to sit around crying when I should be helping my dad and the others at the station look for him. Wiping my eyes a last time, I shut off the TV and walked up the stairs to search Barry's room. I wasn't really sure what I was looking for, but any lead was a good lead. I did my best to mindlessly search the room, not letting the morning's...events...sneak into my mind.

His usually clean and organized room was a pigsty. There were clothes strewn everywhere and paper lying on every flat surface. _I can't believe he didn't tidy this morning. He must have just left in a fla-...hurry. A hurry._ Shaking my head, I started to pick up the room, grabbing the dirty clothes and tossing them into his closet carelessly. No one liked coming home to a messy room. And Barry was going to come home. Because everyone at the police station (and my father especially) was trying their utmost to locate him and explain to the General that it was all a big mistake. I'd spent the entire afternoon angry at him, but hadn't even considered what the obvious truth was. Barry _wouldn't_ keep that kind of secret from me. That meant there was no secret to keep. Somehow, Eiling had planned it. Maybe...the... speedster...had come in to catch the bullet and just put it in Barry's hand, and Barry went with the General in order to protect the hero. It all happened so fast, really…

 _Barry couldn't be him._

…

 _He couldn't._

 _He wasn't._

A particular sweatshirt lying on Barry's bed caught my eye. For the first time that day, I felt a glimmer of hope. If anyone can find Barry Allen, they would be able to. I ran to my car, never more anxious to reach a destination. I needed to get to S.T.A.R Labs.

 **Thanks for reading guys! Leave me a comment to let me know whose perspective you guys want to hear next! There will be WestAllen in this, but if that isn't your thing, I'll try to not make it too distracting from the narrative for the non-shippers.**

 **I've decided to spend some time with the characters back in Central City before we go visit poor Barry. I'll probably write one or two chapters from varying perspectives in between the Barry chapters so I can get in the mind of different characters as the plot advances so it's more interesting. Please tell me what you think! I always love to keep improving!**

 **A special thanks to those who review, favorite, and follow! Love you guys!**


	4. News

_Bad news is usually good news- for somebody else._

 _-James Surowiecki_

"Cisco, I swear to god! When I say don't steal my tic-tacs, I mean it! You have a huge candy stash in your desk; why do you need mine?" My childish co-worker gave me a sheepish smile.

"My apologies, Doctor Snow," he said with mock sincerity, not moving from his relaxed position in his desk chair, feet up on his desk, and most likely with a couple tic-tacs in his mouth. "I found myself with a distinct lack of lollipops in my bottom drawer. I pulled up the security footage, and YOU were the culprit!" I had forgotten about that...I tend to eat a lot in order to pull through all-nighters.

"Well, I only took one," I said defensively. "And you took half a box of tic-tacs!"

"That's because they're tiny! This way it evens out. Besides they're not even really candy; they're mints."

"Aren't you supposed to be working on patching up that hole in the armpit of Barry's suit?

"...my suit…"

"Whatever! Aren't you supposed to be fixing it?"

"Do I look like a tailor to you?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to do it. The only thing I stitch up is flesh. Besides, if it is, in fact, YOUR suit, then you ought to be the one that takes care of it, right?" I gave him a sly smirk.

"Well, you know…" Cisco replied. "It sorta is The Flash's suit now...I'll just have Barry fix it. He's the one who ripped it, and he'll get it done waaaaaay quicker than I could. Have you seen him today?"

"No, but at this point, I'm convinced he lives in a different time zone seeing how late he usually is," I remarked. Cisco turned around and pushed off his desk with his feet, rolling over to my desk in his chair in a very ungraceful manner, leaving the suit draped carelessly on his desk.

"He's not usually THIS late though." He pulled out his phone and looked pensive for a second. "No texts. Maybe they just have a lot of work to the station."

"Or Barry Allen is just famously late again…"

"Yeah, he'll be super-speeding in any minute."

"'Super-speeding' isn't a word, Cisco."

"I swear you two fight like siblings," said Dr. Wells as he wheeled into the Cortex. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which wasn't a unique thing for him. Being the genius that he was, it would only make sense that he would spend many nights contemplating the effects of the particle accelerator, the abilities of metahumans, new inventions, and most certainly, ways to make Barry faster. Barry had improved greatly due to Wells' research, but that research was also taking a physical toll on Dr. Wells' sleeping pattern. Needless to say, I was concerned for him.

"Dr. Wells," I addressed him simply, standing up a bit straighter and forcing the box of nearly empty tic-tacs behind my back. I was greeted only with his blank stare. "Did you pull an all-nighter? You should try to get some more sleep, really. I can give you some eszopiclone or-"

"That's quite all right Caitlin," he sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Allen is late again, I presume?"

"He's probably working late," Cisco said. Then he stopped. "Wait...I think I hear him walking down the hall."

"Walking?" Dr. Wells repeated. I strained to hear the noise approaching.

"In...high heels?" I added. With a panicked look, Cisco pushed off my desk in his swivel chair and rode it across the room to his desk, where he quickly pulled up the live security camera feed.

"Okay the good news is, it's not Barry."

"How is THAT the good news? It's an intruder!" I screeched back.

"Hey, do you really wanna see the dude sporting stilettos? No, it's just Iris. Remember her, from the bar and such?" I felt my eyes widen.

"Cisco! The suit!" His eyes grew as wide, and he scrambled to grab the suit in a flash, the resulting quick movement causing him to fall over in his chair and land on his back, moaning on the ground in the thing most opposite of a flash. The scene would have been extremely comedic if I hadn't caught a glimpse of Iris.

Her eye-makeup was blurred and had run down to only emphasize the dark bags under her eyes. Her flowing dark hair, which usually didn't have a hair out of place, was unkempt and frizzy. She looked up at us with eyes still red from old tears, new one always threatening to form at the corners. Fear, confusion, anger, and pure, unadulterated grief were all reflected in her those eyes. She was clutching something close to her chest in a tight ball, as if holding onto it was what her life depended on. I barely knew Iris; we had only met a few times at clubs and small get-togethers, but seeing her so helpless was heart-wrenching. My cold demeanor all but vanished as I quickly ran over to her.

"Are you okay?" I blurted out. She looked up at me with a face that clearly said, "What the hell do you think?" A little taken aback, I added, "Sorry, standard question…" Iris took the thing the was curled up in her arms and laid it on a nearby table. It was one of Barry's S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirts.

"Have any of you ever heard of a General Eiling?" she asked suddenly. I looked back at Dr. Wells and Cisco and we exchanged a nervous look. "So you have," she concluded, not waiting for an answer.

"What-" I started.

"He took Barry." A horrified silence engulfed the room. Cisco slowly got up from the floor the look of shock and fear most likely mirroring my own. If Eiling had Barry, there was no telling what kind of hell he would be put through. Did that mean the General knew Barry was The Flash? Did that mean Iris knew Barry was The Flash?

"Why would he want to take Barry?" asked Cisco, cautiously pursuing the matter.

"I-well...he...thinks that Barry is the...I mean a...metahuman," she stammered out. "But he isn't! I mean I know him; he's not a super-criminal!" There was no way she hadn't drawn the conclusion, regardless of whether Eiling had proven anything when he took Barry. If he had somehow exposed him as the Flash, that would be VERY bad news, and it was unlikely that Iris would have been the only witness. Somehow, word would get out, and Barry Allen's career as a superhero would be over.

"Iris…" I finally said. "What...happened? I mean, what did you see?"

"I…" her voice cracked. I could see her open and close her mouth, in fruitless attempts to say something. "What does it matter?" she suddenly shouted, tears in her eyes. "What matters is that Barry is being taken God knows where, where he'll be imprisoned, or tortured, or killed! How about you find him instead of asking stupid questions!" She began to quietly sob again, and the most I could do was awkwardly lead her over to a chair and hand her a box of tissues.

"Don't worry. We will do all we can to find Barry and bring him home safely," Dr. Wells assured Iris, finally breaking his silence. "But we need you to tell us what happened so we know how to track him."

"Tell us whenever you're ready," I reassured the broken girl. I had no idea what she had seen, but whatever it was, it had shaken up her up pretty badly.

"Time is not a luxury that we have," Dr. Wells intervened coldly. "If you want to see Mr. Allen alive again, we need to find him NOW."

"They took him in front of the whole station," she choked out between sobs, which had only worsened due to Wells' pushing. "They put Barry in an armored car. I don't remember which way they went." Without another word, Dr. Wells turned his chair around and wheeled over to his desk on the opposite side of the room. He turned back briefly to look at Cisco, his empty stare beckoning him to follow so they could get to work.

"I need to take a walk," Iris murmured, rising from her chair. When I followed her, she didn't protest. I debated what to say for a while, not wanting to provoke her in a time of weakness, but also wanting to give her support and reassurance. This was by far not the first time that I had cursed myself for never working on my social skills.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, lamely, as we walked through the empty hallways of the huge facility. "Dr. Wells...can be a bit insensitive. He didn't mean to hurt you, it's just that Barry's...really important to all of us; especially to you."

"And I might never see him again." I stopped, turned around, and looked Iris straight in the eye witht he sincerity of a best friend, though I barely knew her.

"Iris. We'll find him. We're not going to let Eiling take him away from us. I promise you, we'll bring him back. You trust me, right?" Iris didn't respond for a while.

"I trust The Flash. The Flash will save Barry," she finally said, sounding less like she was convincing me, and more like she was convincing herself.

* * *

" _Ladies...Gentlemen...You have a new inmate. Barry Allen, allow me to introduce you to Mark Mardon, Shawna Baez, Kyle Nimbus, and Roy Bivolo. Though, due to the look on your face, I'll assume you've already met."_

 **Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is a bit late, but it's here now so Merry Christmas! (Happy Hanukkah! Have a Kicking Kwanzaa!)**

 **I was stuck after one particular sentence and just continually wrote in random crap due to severe writer's block. For example...**

"Iris…" I finally said. "What...happened? I mean, what did you see?"

"I SAW JOHN CENA DUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUN!"

 **...I have a weird sense of humor. The original chapter title was "I SAW JOHN CENA OMG!"I usually don't write serious stuff XD Please let me know how I can improve!**

 **Next is a Barry Chapter!**

 ***ahem* ReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReviewReview! (Thanks! :D)**


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